


Trials

by CosmicCatCalls



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Andraste - Freeform, Chant of Light, Circle Mages, Cullen Appreciation Week, Cullen Appreciation Week 2017, F/M, Gen, One Shot, Or possible prequel?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-18 23:00:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11884650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicCatCalls/pseuds/CosmicCatCalls
Summary: Ser Cullen, a Templar in Kenloch Hold, is on patrol when he hears an enchanting voice coming from the Chantry.





	Trials

There was a dim flicker of light coming from a cracked door, casting shadows on the stone walls directly across. As the templar moved towards the light, his heavy steps and matching breath echoed as marched down the otherwise quiet hall. The Templar yawned, he was unused to the schedule. The new Templars always had the worst shifts, for a time at least. His round was almost over and he looked forward to what sleep he could get. He knew the light came from the open chantry doors, one of the largest and most used rooms in the Tower. It was too late however, almost 3am, for one of the sisters to be preparing anything.  _ Perhaps someone forgot to put out the candle _ , he thought idly. This thought was interrupted as his footsteps were joined by a soft ethereal sound. It took only a moment for the Templar to make out the words:

 

_ In the long hours of the night _ __  
_ When hope has abandoned me, _ __  
_ I will see the stars and know _ _  
_ _ Your Light remains._

 

“The Chant,” he whispered under his breath.  _ The Sisters must be practicing _ , he thought. Though he’d never heard the Chant of Light recited in such a manner, with a melody. The Templar approached the door quietly, not wishing to disturb whomever was singing. He didn’t want the music to stop.

  
  


_ You have walked beside me _ __  
_ Down the paths where a thousand arrows sought my flesh. _ __  
_ You have stood with me when all others  _ __  
_ Have forsaken me. _ __  
__  
_ I have faced armies  _ __  
_ With You as my shield, _ __  
_ And though I bear scars beyond counting, nothing _ _  
_ _ Can break me except Your absence._

 

The templar stood by the door as the mysterious chanteuse sang. The longer he stood, the more his heart filled with a triumphant beat.  _ Maker, if I could speak to her… _

 

Was it forbidden for a Templar and a Chantry sister to get married? He was getting ahead of himself, he didn’t even know who the singer was. Perhaps it was Andraste herself.  _ That’s blasphemous, _ he thought chastising himself. 

 

_ Maker, though the darkness comes upon me, _ __  
_ I shall embrace the Light. I shall weather the storm. _ __  
_ I shall endure. _ _  
_ _ What you have created, no one can tear asunder._

 

He pictured a woman, clad in chantry robes, her features shifted. One moment she looked like one of the girls named Lily, the next a new apprentice named Alysanne. Of course, it could be a fellow Templar. Were that the case, nothing could prevent him from approaching. 

 

_ I cannot see the path.  _ __  
_ Perhaps there is only abyss. _ __  
_ Trembling, I step forward, _ _  
_ __ In darkness enveloped.

 

_ I have a pleasant voice _ , he thought idly, wondering if he should join in. Would it be disrespectful? Welcome? Perhaps if he made himself known it would be well received. 

 

Gathering every ounce of inner strength, the Templar turned towards the light of the door. His head turned down out of automatic guilt for spying on another’s time of worship. Realizing too late that there was most likely a reason as to why this woman was singing to the Maker in the middle of the night.

 

His armor clinked against the stone and the music stopped abruptly. 

 

“I-I, I’m so sorry.”

 

An elf, he could feel his brow furrowing in confusion.

 

“Please, I just wanted to come when the sisters would not be around.”

 

He did not know that elves cared so much for the Maker.

 

“Last time they heard me singing they locked me away.”

 

His frown increased. “What?” 

 

The elf’s voice came out in a whisper, “The chantry sisters, they heard me singing a few weeks ago and had me put in solitary for three days.”

 

The Templar could feel his face readen. “Why would they do such a thing,” he spat. The elf’s face crumpled and his heart broke. “I mean to say… you sing beautifully.” 

 

She smiled and he could have sworn dawn had come. “Well,” she stood defiantly, “They told me that’s not the way the Chant of Light is sung and that an elf had no place to try differently.”

 

He frowned, in part due to his own ignorance of elvish custom. “Do elves… I mean… I’m guessing you’re a city elf. Are there many Andrastians among your people?”

 

She scoffed, “I don’t think many of us have a choice? Do you?”

 

“I suppose not,” he responded reluctantly. “Either way, ahem, it was quite lovely. I’m sorry you cannot sing for others.”

 

The elf regarded him, a dark eyebrow raised up in thought. He had a feeling that her nervous nature in the beginning of their exchange was not how she normally behaved. “I suppose I could finish the song. If you like it so much. And if you promise to not throw me in solitary for breaking curfew.”

 

The thought hadn’t even occurred to him. He was so stuck on believing that this was a sister, with every right to be in the Chantry, that punishment was not high on his internal to-do list. He couldn’t tell the mage this though, instead he blurted out, “What is your name?”

 

She laughed, “Sorcha… Surana is my family name.” 

 

“Sorcha,” he whispered, “What does it mean?” The elf frowned at him. He wished he could stop talking. He should stop talking, his relief would be down the hall soon and he’d rather they not catch him in this particular situation.

 

“Sorry,” he apologized quickly, “I’m Cullen Rutherford, Templar.” He gestured to himself and the elf laughed again. The laugh was as lovely as her voice and he found himself gazing at her.  _ Stop that _ , he thought to himself. One of the first things they taught recruits was to not fraternize with the mages. What if one day she became an abomination? She wasn’t even wearing the robes of a full Apprentice. She hadn’t passed her Harrowing yet. 

 

“Are you alright?” the ma-- Sorcha asked, concerned.

 

“I’m fine.” Cullen stood straighter and nodded unnecessarily. “I would… ahem, I would love to sing with you. If you would permit, but then I must insist you get to bed. I can escort you.”

 

Sorcha approached her new singing partner and grabbed a gauntlet clad hand, “Do you know the rest?” she teased.   
  
“Of course I do,” Cullen said gruffly, which earned a chuckle from the elf.  _ I wonder if she does this normally or if it’s due to exhaustion,  _ he mused. He had to admit the tune to which she was singing was not known to him. But he was able to listen to her long enough that he believed he could muddle through.

 

She waited for him to start, lips parted, looking into his eyes,  _ Why is she doing this? _

 

Cullen’s deep voice echoed against the chantry walls, the tune slightly off until she joined his voice with her own:

 

_ Though all before me is shadow, _ __  
_ Yet shall the Maker be my guide. _ __  
_ I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond. _ __  
_ For there is no darkness in the Maker's Light _ _  
_ __ And nothing that He has wrought shall be lost.

 

_ I am not alone. Even _ __  
_ As I stumble on the path _ _  
_ _ With my eyes closed, yet I see -_

 

The chime of the clock rang out, interrupting their song, it was 3am. He was late for his shift change.

 

“The Light is here,” she sang softly….  “That’s what my name means.”

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

“Sorcha, it means Light.”

 

“Oh,” Cullen sighed as she let go of his hand and moved towards the door. 

 

“I hope to see you again, Ser Cullen, I can find my own way from here.”

 

Before he could answer she slipped through the door and down the hall. He could hear quiet footsteps going down the opposite way his relief would come.  _ Good, that means she comes often. _

**Author's Note:**

> I took the Chant of Light quotes from the Dragon Age Wikia. 
> 
> I wrote this for Cullen Appreciate Week 2017. I hope you liked it! Depending on how I feel, I may turn it into a prequel for a larger Surana / Cullen fic.


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